We All Need Poetry – Do We, Really?

This morning, I read an article in which poet and professor Tracy K. Smith is quoted saying that “We all need poetry — even hedge fund managers. The moments in our lives that are characterized by language that has to do with necessity or the market, or just, you know, things that take us away from the big questions that we have, those are the things that I think urge us to think about what a poem can offer. Even the students who probably won’t keep writing poetry can learn from poems. The things that a poem can teach them to see and to hear and to listen for are necessary.”

My response? Do the hedge fund managers know they need poetry?

Yes, we all need to see the doctor from time to time. Yes, we all need to take our medicine, but do we know that we need to? And if we know, do we? Honestly, I really don’t think so.

I’ve also read that “In all ages, poetry has been regarded as important, not simply for pleasure, but as something central to each individual’s existence, something of unique value, and something which makes us feel better off for having and which we are spiritually impoverished without.”

Poetry is central to my existence, but I don’t believe it is central to existence. People live and live well without poetry. Rather, in my opinion, most people run from poetry as they might run from pestilence; yet, they live well. From their point of view, they live better.

I do believe that if poetry were a bigger part of the world the world, and those in it, might fare better. Sadly, I believe poetry may die before the world does. Those people I mentioned, those runners, everyday people, intelligent people…well, they just keep running.

I need poetry and I seek it out. Do others need it? Maybe they do, but why pursue it when they, in their minds, are getting along just fine without it?

Perhaps then, I’ve just convinced myself to spread a bit of poetry. Perhaps not. I’m really not sure.

Related articles

• Does Poetry Still Matter? Yes Indeed, Says NPR NewsPoet (npr.org)

On my Horizon…

I’m an author, a little know, unimportant author, but
still, I’m an author and I get excited when I get to do author type
things. Here are a few of those things.

1. There is chance, a small chance, that New Jersey poet David Vincenti and I will have the opportunity to take our Voices from
History poetry tour to the Massachusetts Poetry
Festival this spring.

2. Fellow Anaphora Literary Press authors and
I are hoping to arrange a New York reading. 3. My second
manuscript, The Journals of Lt. Kendal Everly: A
Story of the American Civil War, is almost complete.

Details to follow.

Where I (Wish I Could) Write

A Writer’s Dream Room

The photo featured here…well, it’s beautiful. Isn’t? It’s a reader’s/writer’s dream. Perhaps one day I’ll have a room like this in my house, a room with dark brown, leather chairs, shelves heavy with old books, a fire place, and most of all, a room draped with a silken quiet. Yes, there I could read, and write, and think, but I don’t have a room like that.

Yesterday, I started a poem in a local karate dojo, where my son is taught karate. Kids were everywhere: noise, noise, noise. And I was sitting on a plastic chair – no brown leather. And I couldn’t find the glow, the warmth of a fire – or a fireplace for that matter. Still I wrote anyway, the first few words of a poem. I saw my son smiling. I watched him diligently punch this and chop that. He was happy. That made me happy. It made me warm. Guess my dream room can wait.

Below are the words I spoke of, the first words a new poem crafted in a karate dojo. In the poem, my new book’s protagonist, writes about waking up after killing a Confederate soldier, killing him brutally, and after being injured himself.

The Ache of Light

September 3, 1861

When my eyes opened again,
light draped over me like an ache;
it soaked through skin, into bone
and caught fire.

Related articles

• We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Program… (veranano.wordpress.com)
• POETICS – ‘Growing Up’ (dversepoets.com)

Writing Challenge: Phone Poem

I admit it. I failed this challenge. It was offerred on poet Adele Kenny’s blog, The Music In It. I was challenge to write about a phone. If you read on, you’ll discover there is no phone in my poem. There was, but the poem didn’t like it; therefore, I removed it. I never disobey the poem. It’s smarter than I am.

To the Book Seller

I thought of you today as I passed your shop,
imagined you settled on a stool behind the counter –
your hands spread the wings of a new volume
of old poetry: Whittier or Longfellow. The scent

of crisp paper warms a moment like a coffee
liberating heat – yours a blend of cinnamon,
two splashes of whiskey. Each book remains attentive,
in its place – a silent company. Each covets your attention,

your fingers to scrape the edge of pages, the stiff line of its spine.
A young lady, her hair still damp – an afternoon’s
light rain – cradles Kerouac and Nabakov. Excuse me,

she asks, which do you prefer?  That depends, you say.
Will you be pouring red wine or white?  Her eyes - as green as spring.

Related articles

• Writing Challenge: Shadow (thelintinmypocket.wordpress.com)

McClellan is Cut

Yup, looks like Gen. McClellan has been cut. I wrote the poem posted below for my developing manuscript, but I don’t think it will survive final edits. Therefore, I thought I’d share it here.

Gen. George B. McClellan

McClellan is Named

July 27, 1861

The news has set small fires
in the hearts of the boys –
George McClellan will lead us all,

and I pray, like Moses, he will
usher us into a new Promised Land
where the milk is peace and the honey

the sweet tastes of home: my wife’s tenderness,
my children’s laughter. Yet, I fear this new fire.
A fire’s warmth only hides its growl and bite.

Like me, McClellan is a learned man.
His eyes reach for something
that cannot be seen. He wonders…

but a viper considers not the wind
before it unsheathes its fangs.
That much I’ve learned.

Private Hercules McGraw to be Reviewed

Yup, it’s official. Confederate Book Review will soon be reviewing my book, Private Hercules McGraw. Lord willing, it’ll be a positive review. My knees are knocking.

Here’s the announcement:

http://confederatebookreview.blogspot.com/2012/02/upcoming-posts-e-book-style.html

Related articles

• Private McGraw Speaks (thelintinmypocket.wordpress.com)

Opinions: I am Lieutenant – Poem 2

Opinions

April 6, 1861

My students storm the room, spirited
colts penned by the walls
of the school house. Today, there’s no quiet.

Mr. Everly, shouts Scotty Thurman,
my daddy said we’re gonna wash
the Southern heathens
from our land like fleas off a dog.
He said, dumb as they are, won’t take
more than an afternoon He said
it’ll be fun to watch too – good for us all.

Scotty’s eyes beam with anticipation –
as if he perches on the brink
of Christmas morn and the thunder
of war is the sweetest holiday sugar.

Too much candy – we’ll all be ill.

(Previously featured on this blog)

Let’s Begin

My poetry manuscript, Private Hercules McGee: Poems of the American Civil War, was submitted to a publisher several weeks ago. Yesterday, I received a response. Although according to the publisher, my poems possess “breath taking moments”, my manuscript was not accepted for publication; however, I was offered several suggestions regarding revisions, several excellent suggestions. I was also encouraged to resubmit. Good news.

Today, I begin an adventure of sorts. I’ve developed a different approach to my manuscript and how it will be presented. Poems will be revised. Old poems will be removed and new poems will be written. In fact, I’ve already written a new poem, a poem that will be the first poem in my new manuscript.

I’m excited, very excited. I’ll share my ideas soon.